The Booth That History Forgot
by DaLiza
Summary: Brennan shares a surprising story with Booth. BB the way they used to be. Originally a one shot, but second chapter added by request.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This story was inspired by an article on the website cracked (dot) com titled "The 5 Most Mind-Blowing Coincidences of All Time". Hope you enjoy!**

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"Something is bothering you," Brennan announced as she and Booth drove to their latest crime scene. She wouldn't normally make assumptions about the emotions of other people, but Booth was different. After six years of studying the expressions that crossed his aesthetically pleasing face, she had great confidence in her ability to tell when something was wrong with him.

Booth considered denying it, but knew his partner wouldn't be fooled. "Yeah, but I'd rather not talk about it right now."

"Oh. I understand." Trying and failing to hide the disappointment in her voice, she turned her head to the passenger side window and pretended to be interested in the scenery.

After seconds of uncomfortable silence turned into minutes, Booth reached his breaking point. "I talked to Parker on the phone yesterday, and he asked me about something that I wasn't ready to discuss with him."

"He wanted to know about sex?" Brennan guessed, knowing how embarrassed the subject made him. "I could talk to him for you."

Booth had to smile as he imagined her explaining sex in super squinty terms while using models of the male and female reproductive systems. "Thanks for the offer, Bones, but he didn't ask about sex."

Brennan waited a few moments for him to offer additional information, but he didn't. She decided that she would have to continue speculating until she got it right, or until he told her. "Did he ask about your past as a sniper? Or about your time in Afghanistan?"

"No, he knows that stuff is off limits until he's older. _Much_ older."

"Did he question the existence of your benevolent creator deity?"

"You mean God? He believes in God. Don't say things like that! You know how I feel about getting struck by lightning."

"You'd prefer not to," Brennan said in earnest.

Booth laughed. "Exactly."

"Did he find out that you lied to him about Santa Claus?"

"No, he still believes in Santa."

"Did he want to know why you wear your sexually suggestive 'Cocky' belt buckle?"

"You're going to keep asking me until I tell you, aren't you?"

"That was my plan, yes."

"Alright," he said with a heavy sigh. "He's learning about Abraham Lincoln in school, so he asked me if we were related to John Wilkes Booth."

Knowing how Booth felt about his infamous ancestor, Brennan gave him a sympathetic look. "What did you tell him?"

"I said that it was just a coincidence that we had the same last name. It's bad enough that Parker has a father who's killed over fifty people. He doesn't need to know that he also has a famous assassin in his family tree!" The words came out louder and angrier than he'd intended.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Booth."

Her gentle touch and voice helped him calm down. "You don't need to be sorry, Bones," he said softly. "My screwed up family isn't your fault."

"You're not the only one with a 'screwed-up family'. My brother used to run a chop shop processing stolen cars for parts, my parents robbed banks, and my father killed people and set them on fire. I'm the daughter of a murderer."

Booth shook his head. "Your dad isn't a bad guy; he only killed people who would have killed you or Russ. My ancestor assassinated the _President of the United States_. I've got evil in my DNA."

"There's no such thing as evil DNA."

"I'm not so sure of that."

Brennan didn't know what else she could say. "Perhaps we should discuss this with Sweets."

"No, no, no. Promise me you won't tell him about this. Please."

Her heart ached at the pain she saw in his eyes. "I promise."

"Thank you."

Neither partner spoke again until they reached their crime scene a few minutes later.

"No more talk about my family's past, alright?" Booth said as he parked the car. "Let's go catch a murderer."

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While at the crime scene, and later at the lab, Brennan had been too focused on analyzing their victim to think of anything else. Yet as she drove home from the Jeffersonian, she found herself thinking about Booth's family history again. She hated that a man as noble as Booth should have to bear the shame of association with one of history's most famous assassins. She wanted to make him feel better, but wasn't sure how.

She was almost home when inspiration struck. While she couldn't change the fact that the most famous Booth was a killer, there had to be other Booths who had accomplished things that her Booth would be proud of. As soon as she entered her apartment, she turned on her computer and began her research.

Two hours later, she found what she was looking for.

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"I have something very interesting to tell you," Brennan said the next night as they ate dinner at the diner. "I was doing research on your family's past and-"

"Whoa, hold on a minute there, Bones," Booth said with a mouth full of hamburger. He was silent for a few moments as he finished chewing. "Why were you doing research on my family? I told you that I didn't want to talk about that anymore."

"I know, but I wanted to find something that would make you feel better. Just listen. I discovered a rather fascinating story about Edwin Booth, John Wilkes Booth's older brother. Like his father, Junius Brutus Booth, Edwin was a famous Shakespearean actor. Some sources called him the 'greatest actor in American history.' There's even a statue of him in Gramercy Park in Manhattan."

Booth's eyes widened. "One of my relatives has his own statue? That is fascinating. If we ever get a case in Manhattan, we'll have to check it out."

"I'd like that. I saw pictures of it online, and it appears that you two have similarly symmetrical facial features. But the statue wasn't the fascinating part. Some time before President Lincoln was assassinated, Edwin Booth rescued a young man who had fallen off a train platform. The young man recognized Edwin since he was a well known actor. But Edwin didn't know who he'd saved until he received a letter of commendation from Colonel Adam Badeau, a friend who'd heard about the rescue from the young man himself while the two served together in the Union Army. Would you like to know who your ancestor saved?"

Booth was hanging on her every word. "Who?"

"Robert Todd Lincoln."

"Lincoln? Any relation to President Lincoln?"

"Yes. He was the president's son."

Booth dropped his hamburger. "You're serious?"

"Serious as a heart attack."

"Wow. The odds of something like that happening have got to be…"

"Infinitesimal. Yet it happened. Edwin was a hero, Booth. Just like you."

His chest puffed out with pride. "You think I'm a hero?"

"Yes, I do. You've saved my life on several occasions, and I've seen you save many others. Even if you did have 'evil DNA'-which you don't, because it doesn't exist-you're still the most heroic person I know."

He reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. "Thank you, Bones."

"So I've made you feel better?" She asked with a smile.

"Yeah." He smiled back. "You always do."

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**Thanks for reading! All comments are greatly appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I hadn't planned on turning this one shot into a two shot, but mumrulz gave me an intriguing idea. Hope you enjoy!**

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**Three Months Later**

"This has to look strange to people passing us," Booth mused out loud as he sat, blindfolded, in the passenger seat of his partner's car. He didn't know where they were headed, or what would happen once they reached their destination. All he knew was that Bones had some big birthday surprise planned. "They're going to think that you've kidnapped me."

Brennan frowned as she remembered the times he'd _actually_ been kidnapped. "No, they won't. It'd be more logical for a kidnapper to put you in the trunk than the front seat."

"True, but not everyone thinks as logically as you do." As a memory from the first year of their partnership suddenly jumped into the forefront of his mind, he laughed.

"What was so funny?" Brennan asked.

"I was thinking about the time I picked you up at Dulles before the Cleo Eller case."

"After you asked airport security to detain me so you could stage a fake rescue," she recalled with a smile.

_Bones identifies bodies for us, _he had told the security guard.

_Don't call me Bones. And I do more then identify._

"Yeah. I thought you'd be so grateful that you'd agree to help me with the case. But of course it didn't work out that way. When I got you in the car, you said that if I drove another block you'd scream 'kidnap' out the window."

Brennan chuckled. "I probably would have if you hadn't stopped."

"Oh, I know you would have." He joined her in her laughter. After they finished, both were silent for a few moments. When Booth spoke again, his tone was serious. "We've come a long way since then."

Brennan matched his tone. "Yes, we have."

More silence followed as each partner thought about how much their relationship had grown over the years. Again it was Booth who broke the silence. "So will you give me a hint about where we're going?"

"No. We'll be there soon enough."

"Come on, Bones!" He said with mock indignation. "Tell you what. If you give me a hint-just one little hint- I'll try some of that organic vegetarian stuff the next time we go to the diner."

Brennan considered his offer. "It would be much better for you than your normal fare."

"So you'll do it?" He threw in the charm smile to seal the deal.

"For the sake of your health, yes. Your hint is that our first destination is approximately 42 kilometers from downtown D.C."

"What's that in English?"

"As the official FBI liaison to the Jeffersonian, you really should have learned the Metric system years ago," she teased.

"I will…someday. But since it is my birthday, will you translate for me, oh noble Queen of the Squints?"

Brennan laughed. "26 miles."

The wheels in Booth's brain started turning. "26 miles…what's 26 miles from downtown? We're not…that would be weird since we were just talking about…Bones, are we going to Dulles?"

She smiled. "No, we're not _going_ to Dulles. We're there now. I guess you can take your blindfold off." He did, squinting at the sudden invasion of light. As his eyes adjusted, Brennan parked the car in the long term parking area and popped the trunk.

"I didn't know we'd be going on a _plane_," Booth said, wondering what their next destination was. "I don't have any luggage."

"You do," Brennan assured him. "I removed your overnight bag from the SUV."

They took their bags out of the trunk and headed toward the main terminal. "So where are we staying overnight?" Booth asked.

"New York."

"Why New-?" He stopped himself as the answer came to him. "So we can see Edwin Booth's statue!"

"Yes. I remembered how much you enjoyed sitting in first class on our flight to China, so I got us first class seats."

"_Two _first class seats?" Booth whistled. "Wow! You must have spent a fortune."

"Not really; I am quite wealthy, Booth. I was happy to spend my money on something that I knew would make you happy." Entering the terminal, she grinned when she saw two familiar faces among the throng of travelers. "And I actually bought _three_ first class seats."

"Three?" Booth's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Someone else is coming with us?"

"He is." She pointed to the boy with blond curls standing beside his mother.

Booth's face lit up at the sight of his son. "Parker!"

"Dad!" Parker ran to his father and hugged him.

When he'd finished hugging his son, Booth wrapped his arms around his partner. "Thank you, Bones. You're amazing."

She gladly returned the embrace. "I know."

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During their hour and a half long flight, Brennan tried to teach Parker as much as she could about the history of New York. He listened attentively at first, but before long he was distracted by the view his window offered, declaring it "awesome". He also enjoyed making his seat lean back as far as it would go, just like his dad. As Brennan watched father and son talking and laughing together, two familiar thoughts ran through her mind.

The first was that Booth was an excellent father.

The second was that he was the _only_ father she'd want for her children.

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When they arrived in New York, Brennan, Booth, and Parker took a cab to Gramercy Park.

"According to my online research, the statue is near the south gate of the park," Brennan said.

"What statue?" Parker asked. Booth and Brennan hadn't told him about it, wanting to surprise him.

"You'll see, bud," Booth said. After a few minutes of heading south, he spotted a bronze statue of a man standing before what appeared to be a throne. "Is that him, Bones?"

She smiled at the excitement in his voice. "That's him."

Booth started jogging toward the statue, and Brennan and Parker followed. When his partner and son caught up with him, he pointed to the inscription on the statue's base. "Look at that, Parker!"

"Edwin Booth, 1833-1893," Parker read out loud. Sounding as excited as his father, he asked: "Are we related to him? Was he a king?"

"We are related to him," Booth said with pride. "But he wasn't a king."

"Then why is he standing in front of a throne?" Parker asked.

"Good question," Booth said. "Bones?"

"Your ancestor was a very famous actor," Brennan explained to Parker. "The artist who did this statue, Edmond Thomas Quinn, is showing him portraying Shakespeare's Hamlet. Hamlet was a prince of Denmark, thus the throne."

"But Edwin wasn't just an actor," Booth added. "He was a _hero_. He saved President Lincoln's son Robert."

Parker's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really," said Booth. "Robert was on a crowded train platform. It was so crowded that he was pushed up against a train car. When the train began to move, Robert fell off the platform. Seeing him fall, Edwin grabbed his coat collar and pulled him back up, saving his life. Edwin didn't even know that he'd saved the president's son; he'd helped him because it was the right thing to do."

"Cool," Parker said. "You've saved a lot of people, Dad. Maybe someday they'll make a statue of you!"

Booth laughed. "Maybe. Assistant Director Hacker once told me that I was one of the best agents in the history of the Bureau, so maybe the FBI will give me a statue as a retirement present. They could put it right next to the Hoover building."

Brennan smiled as she pictured it. "I hope your statue will include your 'Cocky' belt buckle and an unusual pair of socks."

"Of course it will!" Booth said, laughing again. "I bet _your_ statue will have a Jeffersonian lab coat."

"_My_ statue?"

"You'll definitely get a statue someday for being the greatest forensic anthropologist ever."

"I am exceptionally gifted, but 'greatest ever' would be hard to quantify."

"Even if you're not the best squint who ever lived, which I doubt, you're still the greatest partner- and the greatest friend- I've ever had." Booth slid an arm around her shoulders. "Forget the Hoover building! They should put our statues right next to each other in the Jeffersonian Museum. Booth and Bones, side by side forever."

Brennan let herself lean into him. "I find that I like the sound of that."

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Thirty years later, Brennan, remembering the conversation she and Booth had had in front of Edwin Booth's statue, commissioned Angela to make a statue of her and Booth. The statue would honor his retirement from the FBI and serve as a present for their wedding anniversary.

The finished product showed the partners/spouses standing side by side, with Booth's hand resting on the small of Brennan's back. Each was dressed as the other had imagined thirty years before. On the base of the statue was the inscription:

_Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth_

_Everything Happened Eventually_

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**Thanks for reading! All comments are greatly appreciated.**


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